The Reminiscence Of Home As A Flower With Beautiful Colors
Date: 2024-12-11
The trees have gathered sweet fruits on the spines of their branches.
Sparrows in the woodlands, their songs have come again to heal wounds.
At night, the gentle breeze is a reminder of bliss.
Little children dive into the streams to wash themselves off the day's play.
Mortals do not stop kissing the pestle's tender mouth to birth new pounded yams.
In a gathering, talking drums relish the hearts of men, as palm wine travels down
their long throats.
Ifagbemi proclaims a new festival. Joy dangles on the people's chests like a pendulum.
Little children play in the village square.
The boys play gídígbò, while the girls
draw lines for suwe.
draw lines for suwe.
Home is the joy of a bird — the music pouring out
from its mouth.
Home is the living testament of a boy
lost in the wilderness, searching for the maps that lead to his fatherland.
lost in the wilderness, searching for the maps that lead to his fatherland.
